


On Love

by bmmboo



Category: Yuri!!! on Ice (Anime)
Genre: Gen, Kinda Fluffy, M/M, Victuri
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-11-27
Updated: 2016-11-27
Packaged: 2018-09-02 13:44:18
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 868
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8669926
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/bmmboo/pseuds/bmmboo
Summary: Yuri Plisetsky doesn't know everything about love, but he's trying.





	

**Author's Note:**

> I know there are discrepancies about name spelling but...I went with how it was spelled in the show/the subs I had. It also felt weird to refer to Yuri P. as "Yurio" given this is from his POV more or less so there's that. I wrote this is in like an hour and a half so if there are some whoopsy daisies growing in my garden, please enjoy them. Also, discrepancy in Yuri P.'s age is just that it's set further on in time. No specific point, just "later"-ish.

Yuri Plisetsky is 16 years old. In the dark, alone, he might begrudgingly admit there were things about life he didn't know. Things about himself, about others, he didn't understand. Alone, with only his thoughts, he might admit that perhaps...maybe 16 years was not enough to understand some aspects of life.

Like love.

He wouldn't allow even his own private thoughts be misconstrued, however. Just because he wasn't exceptionally experienced with relationships - or in fact, with love - that didn't mean he didn't “get” it. He knew people fell in love. Sometimes on purpose, sometimes on accident. He knew people in love acted differently around their lovers than they did with others. How they acted alone versus how they would act together or in front of strangers.

He got that. Now. Maybe here, in the dark booth at Ice Castle Hasetsu, he would admit that it took him a bit too long to realize. A year ago he would be fuming that Other Yuri was still taking up all of Victor's precious time and energy. How naive he had been. Alright, still was. To an extent.

Victor and Other Yuri are on the rink, enshrined in the light of a single spotlight. They don't know Yuri is sitting in the booth above, alone. Watching them. Here, after hours in the skating rink, he watches his rival float silently behind his idol...former idol. He wasn't sure anymore what Victor was to him, if anything. Mentor wasn't quite right. Idol didn't really apply to someone he didn't vigorously follow and respect. If he was honest, he didn't know if it was right to call Other Yuri his rival any more, either.

From the booth, behind the glass, he watches the glint of their skates off the dim ice. Victor's gold blades followed silently by Other Yuri's silver. They move in smooth sync, barely a foot apart. It's not a choreographed program. They aren't training for anything right now.

They're just...skating. This, Yuri decides, is a part of love he must not get. They aren't speaking. Other Yuri just smiles softly and Victor looks as though he may fall asleep at any moment. This doesn't seem particularly romantic. Occasionally, their uniform skating falls apart and they just circle around until they match up again. To Yuri, this is the epitome of indulgent. Not working towards a goal, just skating. Lazy, aimless skating. Again, he doesn't grasp what about this was supposedly “romantic”.

He wishes that, in the past, he would have been less baldfaced with his jealousy. Though at the time, he recalls, he would not have admitted to it being “jealousy”. He remembers seething. So angry that Victor had dropped him so readily for the piglet. He had left after seeing just a single video. Dropped everything, dropped Yuri, and flew to Japan to see some total stranger. Some fatso who turned out to be a completely different person than the broken down skater he'd met in a bathroom stall before.

He sees it now, after watching Other Yuri's performances after being coached by Victor. He can see where his skill ended and insecurity began, and he sees the mended patches where Victor had repaired him. That's what he was jealous of. Yuri craved that “fix”. He only wishes that he'd learned sooner that it wasn't Victor's job or obligation to do it for him. Yuri had all the talent, all the drive and a surplus of pride. Too much pride. He hoped that someday soon he could admit that to Victor, to Other Yuri. He'd been ignorant – no, outright cruel – to Other Yuri at Sochi. Even Victor couldn't have fixed THAT version of himself.

He whispers a special thanks to Yakov and Lillia, to his grandfather and friends aloud, almost shocked by even his smallest noise. It was enough that he was basically prying into their private time here, it was almost too much to even dare make a sound. He put a folded hand to his mouth, and continued watching.

The two had found a rhythm again. Victor finally opened his mouth to speak, but even the echo of the words didn't make it into the booth. Victor stretches a slim arm out, catching Other Yuri by the waist, drawing him close. He catches the Japanese man's momentum, sending them spinning in lazy circles together.

Yuri doesn't understand why the two men on the rink now are in love, or indeed, what it is they feel, floating across the ice like this, but he sees them. He sees Victor lift Other Yuri's glasses onto the top of his head before meeting him for kiss so innocent and saccharine he can smell the sweetness of it from here.

He is grateful that he is here in secret, so that no one, especially Victor or Other Yuri, can see a soft smile relax his face. Even the privacy of a dark room shouldn't see him like that. He shakes his head and resets his trademark face, scowling in the dark. He moves and grimaces at the creak the chair gives off as he makes his way out the door and down a dark hallway, unseen, back to Yu-Topia.

 

 

 


End file.
